


Raspberries & Rum

by misbehavingvigilante



Series: Marvel Spookytober Prompts 2019 [11]
Category: Marvel, Marvel 3490
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Space, Gender Dysphoria, Nonbinary Character, Other, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-10-12
Packaged: 2020-12-09 14:41:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20996477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misbehavingvigilante/pseuds/misbehavingvigilante
Summary: There’s something about being alone in a space station by yourself. Or well, alone, theoretically, as if Tony was ever truly only with a host of AIs and helper bots replacing any human staff that could have helped him in the setting up process of the station.





	Raspberries & Rum

**Author's Note:**

> [{Join me for the spook}](https://marvelspookytoberprompts.tumblr.com/post/188006745165/click-to-see-a-better-quality-of-the-prompts)
> 
> Day 11 - Witching Hour 
> 
> Because space tastes like that and also loosely inspired by Deliver Us The Moon.

There’s something about being alone in a space station by yourself. Or well, alone, theoretically, as if Tony was ever truly only with a host of AIs and helper bots replacing any human staff that could have helped him in the setting up process of the station.

Tony was sure people talked about him when he tended to prefer his artificial and digital friends instead of humanity. It wasn’t as if he was a misanthrope. Tony liked humanity, he wouldn’t be doing things to constantly improve things for humanity if that wasn’t the case, he just tended to get along better with AIs and bots even the ones he hadn’t designed himself. That came up in argument too that he was just that much of a narcissist it that he only liked to be around his own creations.

Then again, Tony was probably in a not so great mood considering he had only thought to bring two binders along with the stupid idea that yes that would have been enough. One of them had broke and Tony really didn’t like how the other one fit as much thus he was forced to go without.

An annoyance, really, when today he firmly felt like a guy but no the curve of his chest just had to want to remind him of the secondary sexual characteristics that this body had been saddled with. 

Other primates didn’t deal with that nonsense of large breasts all that time, only when lactating but no, oh no humanity had to buck the trend.

Not that Tony had much in the breast department to complain about really but still his chest wasn’t completely flat and right now that was the antithesis of what he wanted.

Baggy clothes for the win as he carded through his clothes to find a sweatshirt he’d stolen from Rhodey at one point or the other. It would work in a pinch and that was what was important. The next important thing was coffee.

Tony had managed to bring in a cup that had gifted to him by Pepper that said don’t talk to me until I’ve had my coffee which in all honesty was a good advice and warning.

Tony had just settled down to start working, and since he had slept soundly for all of three hours, he assumed there hadn’t been any issues. He vaguely noticed that it was known what was known as the witching hour. A period of time where supernatural phenomena was said to increase, or when it came to science when melatonin production could kick in and causes weird impact on humans. 

Tony had never been really superstitious but he wondered what that meant in space. If people still reported the same things when time moved differently here than back on Earth.

As if mocking him, for the belief nothing would happen, something did indeed happen, FRIDAY barely gets to blurt out a warning before it all goes to hell.

The thing about space that is scary, is there’s only metal and glass really protecting you from the vacuum of space and regardless of how many safe measures and counter measures you have against hull breaches? In the end, you’re at the mercy of the cosmos, something infinitely older than you, and that will be there long, long,_ long_ after you’re gone.

In hindsight, in a still not yet full running base, he really should have had an emergency oxygen supply on him at all times but Tony had disagreed that safety issue because the dysphoria had instead consumed all his thoughts. Now, he might die because of it.

Well, the thought wasn’t exactly a surprise, all the time he spent in space, death in space had seemed inevitable, and of natural causes less so given well, he was himself and didn’t always have a great sense of self preservation. Still, death by the vacuum of space?

Tony knew he’d be unconscious for the bulk of it at least so… hopefully the pain of ebullism wouldn’t wake him up from his unconsciousness when his body swelled up maybe even up to twice it’s size as his blood circulation just outright stopped.

He hadn’t held his breath at least, the instinct was there to save his breathe, but in space holding your breath only lead to ruptured lungs which sounded exceedingly more uncomfortable than the previous aforementioned mode of death.

What else was there to think of when his vision was blacking out and he knew the end was coming but death? Tony vaguely wondered how long it might be until someone found out, communications had been spotty and on the agenda to be fixed next.

At least there was enough AIs and bots on the station to keep themselves company when he was dead and that they would eventually tell his friends what happened to when the opportunity presented itself.

Tony vaguely saw a flash of something red, white and blue and wondered vaguely why his last moments were that of the American flag.

He hadn’t even been born in America, or on Earth for that matter.

Suddenly though it’s like there’s oxygen being forced into his lungs, but with an added taste of raspberries and rum. Tony had no idea what to make of that, as far he knew there were no such things as oxygen bubbles in space but he has even less idea of what to think of he opens his eyes.

Unmistakable, there’s a well an alien in front of him, vaguely humanoid but looking like a chunk of living space if Tony had to explain it. A sea of blue, red and whites unfold in front of him, the main accent is blue with white sparkles throughout and even what nearly looked like an circular shield on the being’s chest. It’s flat, but really, Tony cannot think to assume an alien’s gender, or even that they have a gender, he’s really only staring because damn, he wished that was him right now.

That and those admittedly really nice pecs too, musculature apparently happens even when someone has space for skin it seemed, there was a point of contact between them so this being clearly wasn’t intangible.

There’s a sound but it’s nothing close to what Tony can translate, very far removed from anything resembling human speech, the best proximity he can think of is those stellar seismology sounds that have pulsing and warbling in them. Tony had always found them relaxing, the repetition and how soft it had sounded, he had expected the inside of the stars to sound like they were screaming instead of something like a lullaby.

The look of confusion must show on Tony’s face or maybe the alien just realized it’s pointless to assume something fleshy and oxygen dependent like him would be capable of speaking the same language.

Eventually with arms, and those definitely feel like strong, muscly arms, Tony wonders does this alien really have strength in how humans quantify it or is it merely something like the manipulation of gravity to propel their movements in space?

Tony muses on that and other scientific things even as he’s guided by to his space station. There’s still sparks of electricity, shards of glasses, and twisted metal beams distorted on what remains of this wing. Tony can finally see the satellite that had crashed into him looking barely held together is at least with some sense of joy. Then there's the fact well, it shouldn't have happened in the first place, he should have had warning there was an object coming this way, or the shields onboard should have taken care of it. 

The alien and Tony really needs a name, or something to call them beside them lets go of them, only after assuring Tony has a firm hold on a piece of metal that isn't bent or sharp enough to cut himself on. Tony wondered vaguely if the sense of electricity when their fingers touched was just because of the contact or just another aspect of this alien's unique physique. For example there isn't anything downstairs but a well sculpted ass, but there are several species that had completely hidden genitalia. Then again, that's assuming this alien and their species reproduces sexually at all. If not, there would in truth be no need for anything like that. 

The alien turns their head back to Tony ever so often, but moves around metal beams that weight a ton or more with ease, and doesn't even seemingly flinch when it comes to a current of electricity so Tony is sure, glass wouldn't do anything even if they make sure to brush it away to clear a path up to what remains of another side of an airlock. 

When the path is clear, the alien comes back to his side and despite the distance of a few feet Tony never even once feels like he needs to breath or that he's about to die painfully in space. 

Tony grabbed the alien's hand before they had a chance to. “Hey, come on. I need you.”

It seems to get across because while the alien's eyes are completely solid and white but not what he'd associate with blindness with how luminous they are seem to understand. Or Tony noted it as understanding with the eyebrows, which the alien did have body hair, but it was the same space skin color as everything else. 

Tony comes back to a thankfully intact panel and points out the button and explains it’s use both with words and gestures in hopes it’ll come across.

There’s a nod, that’s definitely a nod and he goes pass the doors.

They seal behind him and suddenly there’s air again, but the lack of raspberries of rum to flavor it. Tony licks his lips unconsciously finding stronger traces of it there only to think realize while he was unconscious he must have had an alien lip-lock.

Perhaps it wasn’t an oxygen bubble so much as it was a way to temporary ensure someone could breathe?

What use would that be for a species that didn’t seem to need to breathe however?

“Sir?” FRIDAY’s careful voice calls to him.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. Did you see any of that?”

“Any of what?”

Tony sighed, but he didn’t know what else he expected. “I’m going back to bed. Keep an eye out for stray satellites and add shield repairs to the list because apparently something went wrong.”

“Will do.”

~

Then the coffee cup returns that had been lost to the abyss of space but had apparently found its way onboard somehow.

There’s really all sorts of protocol that Stark is breaking right now, but after that brush with death thanks to dysphoria, and a long ten hour of sleep, gender had not been on the agenda today, but coffee definitely was.

Stark brewed coffee and vaguely wondered if this was really just as simple as lost object return or something as serious as an alien proposal.

Either way, they found they didn’t mind.

**Author's Note:**

> If you wanna chat, I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/thiefoftruth26/).


End file.
